


Crash and Burn.

by rubyrosettared



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Completely and utterly AU, F/M, One Shot, after civil war, angsty, before Black Panther Infinity War and Endgame, like super angsty, recovering bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyrosettared/pseuds/rubyrosettared
Summary: Completely AU. Like completely and utterly.Set after the events of Civil War but before the events of Black Panther, Infinity War and Endgame.Bucky is recovering in Wakanda and he's struggling. After a fight with the reader and with his self-esteem and self-confidence at rock bottom,  he questions the reasons why she's with him and why he should be forgiven for what he did as The Winter Soldier. It's emotional and angsty. While all errors are my own and unintentional, I would love to hear your thoughts.A/N: This is part of an old multi chapter fic that I wrote right at the start of when I was getting involved in writing within the Marvel fandom so there are things mentioned here pertaining to events in that fic - which will NEVER see the light of day- but which I kept in this one shot.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Crash and Burn.

**Crash and Burn**

I open my eyes with my heart pulsing in my chest. I’m never able to wake up gradually these days. I focus, stare up at the ceiling for a moment and wait for my heartbeat to settle down. For the adrenaline galloping through my veins to slow. I turn my head and look to my right. You aren’t there. The pillow is smooth, cool, untouched and I begin to realise that you’ve never been there. I frown slightly and slowly sit up. It takes a little time and a lot of upper body strength to manage this and I ignore the protesting ache of my rib cage. The bruising has all but gone but the muscle still aches. I slide out of bed, wondering where you are.

I find you stretched out, sleeping on the couch, a blanket across your legs. I stare at you for a long moment. I listen but all I can hear is the sound of your breathing. You’re peaceful and I envy you that peace.

You. You came from nowhere at a time when I wasn’t looking. You’ve gotten completely under my skin right from the beginning when you were so suspicious and prickly. You helped me through a panic attack that came out of nowhere with a patience and kindness that completely belied your personality. You kept your distance back then. Viewed me with suspicion but you were honest. You didn’t know who the hell I was and to be honest neither did I but you were honest. You didn’t tiptoe around me or wait for me implode or explode like the others were. Maybe that was when the first bond was created, I don’t know but everywhere I’ve turned since then, there you’ve been even during those three years we were apart. When I was wandering and hiding, you was never far from my thoughts as scattered as they were. Each thought, each memory I’ve put down in my journals, you were there with me whether you knew it or not. I tried to forget about you, thought for sure you hated me for what I’d done, for being a part of the reason why your life changed so completely but of course you didn’t. You forgave me.

I swallow against the lump that forms in my throat at that thought. I didn’t, _don’t_ deserve your forgiveness and yet you gave it to me. 

And I love you so damned much.

I close my eyes, feeling tears stupidly close. The air feels thin around me. I can’t really catch my breath. Instead I head out of the room and out onto the balcony.

My head is filled with white noise. I can feel my heart swelling, pulsing, choking the air from my lungs. I lean forward and grip the railing, feel sweat pop out all over my skin, chill, prickling. I pant, unable to draw in air deep enough. My grip tightens on the railing as panic begins to wash over me in paralysing cold waves. I close my eyes. I won’t succumb to it. I won’t. What was it you said I had to do?

That’s right. 

_Breathe._

* * *

“Bucky?”

My eyes pop open at the sound of your voice and on the periphery of my vision I see you come to stand beside me, careful to keep a safe distance. You never come at me from behind, that’s the worst thing anyone can do. You’re a smart girl. I see your expression change slightly, see the concern brew in your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” You reach out a hand to touch my shoulder but at the last moment I gently twist away.

“Don’t,” I whisper and your hand freezes mid-motion and then drops to your side.

No. Everything isn’t okay and hasn’t been in such a long time. I can’t remember a time that I was truly content, when I didn’t have this weight sitting in the middle of my chest. Why does this bother me so much now? I look to the side again. I don’t want you to touch me, to look at me like that but at the same time I crave the affection, to be reassured that everything will be okay, that we can have a happy ever after. Something always stops me though, stops me in my tracks. I should be looking forward, to a future somehow with you beside me but I can’t. I won’t look that far ahead. I don’t deserve it.

You remain still but you still watch me, pushing your hair from your face. It’s so long now, when I first met you it barely touched your shoulders and now it flows over them, over your breasts in wisps and curls that I can wrap my fingers around, _have_ wrapped my fingers around.

“I can’t keep doing this to you,” I mumble, looking away again, looking across at the vista in front of me, at the mountains, at the greenery and the waterfalls but not really seeing it at all.

“Keep doing what?”

I slide another look back at you, “Hurting you. I promised Steve that I wouldn’t but I still did.” I swallow against the lump swelling in my throat. Why am I so emotional, why do I feel like I’m going to bust out crying every five minutes? Why do I care what you think?

 _Because of you. Because it’s you. Because I love you_.

“You haven’t hurt me,” you tell me.

“Yeah I have. In New York, in London and here. It’s like I can’t help myself, it just happens.”

“I was under no illusions in London Bucky, I knew you weren’t going to stick around for long. Remember, I told you that you were a day to day person and that hasn’t changed. I said that I could cope with anything that you chose to throw at me and that still stands. This? It’s just a blip. We’ll get through it. I said I was with you for the long haul and I meant it.”

“You don’t deserve someone like _me_ ,” I grind out, my voice low but you hear the frustration.

“Like you?”

“I’m completely fucked up. I almost knocked you down yesterday, what if next time I do something worse?”

You move closer to me, not quite touching me, still keeping your distance like the clever girl you are.

“So what do you plan to do? And don’t say leave Wakanda because the moment you leave the country, every military and police force in the world will be after you with a shoot to kill order out on you. How far do you think you’ll get?”

I look down, biting my bottom lip. I slowly shake my head, squinting against the tears that all of a sudden crowd my eyes “I’m not gonna run doll, I’m not gonna do that to you again.” My voice is rough, shaky.

“Then what? Because I’m not going to leave you either so don’t tell me to.” I hear the determination in your voice and despite the pain driving through me, I almost smile.

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” I look back at you. You’re standing so close to me now, all I can see is the colour of your eyes. This time you do touch me, you place your hand gently on my shoulder and I tremble beneath your touch.

“Then tell me what to do. Tell me how I can help you,” you whisper to me. I move to stand in front of you, a barrier between you and the railing. Your body is pressed up against mine now, warm, alive. I feels myself begin to weaken. I wind my arm around your waist and I drag you tight up against me and I kiss you, forcing your mouth open, invading, feeling myself grow hard. I want to push you up against the rail, open your legs and bury myself deep inside of you and forget all of this. I feel how you respond to me, how you _always_ respond to me and I pull my mouth away, licking the taste of you from my lips and I peel your arms from around my neck. I take a deep breath, look away and strengthen my resolve.

“How do you do it?” I ask instead as I lift my eyes from my feet and look at you.

“Do what?”

I take a step back away from you.

“This. Live. _Exist_.” I begin to turn away.

“I don’t know. I just do,” you answer and as quick as lightning I spin back around and I’m right in your face, my eyes alight with sudden rage.

“What am I doing here really, sweetheart? Why go to all of this trouble to try and save someone like me? No one can save me, _no one_ can help me. I deserve everything that I get, and if that includes a noose around my neck then so be it!” I hiss, ignoring how wide your eyes go at my words. Silence expands between us, thin and tenuous, stretching tighter, waiting for the first words to shatter it into dust. “I _cannot_ function in this place. Not anywhere. Don’t you understand? I’m broken, I’m beyond repair.” My voice softens and falters as more tears crowd my eyes and I give an angry growl as I scrub them away.

“You put one foot in front of the other Bucky. It’s all you can do. I know what you’ve done and I know that you remember a lot of what you did. You didn’t have a choice, you followed orders.”

“But I still did it.”

“And what would the alternative have been? What would they have done to you if you’d refused?”

“More of what they already did to get me to comply,” I snap back.

“Exactly. _More_ torture. _More_ punishment. _More_ pain. None of it was your fault. You were a victim in all of this. Why won’t you see that?”

“Because I still pulled the fucking trigger, I still detonated those bombs, I still took all of those lives so I refuse to see myself as a goddamn victim!”

“You were the _weapon_ Bucky. Hydra were the ones who armed you, pointed you in that direction,” you retort. I just stare at you with eyes wide, trembling very slightly. “And you need to begin the process of accepting that and to _do_ that you need to get help, to talk to someone here and take that first step towards recovery and forgiving yourself.”

“Now you sound like one of those damned self-help adverts on the television,” I snarl at you.

“If you won’t help yourself, why won’t you let anyone else try?” you demand.

“Maybe because I don’t want to. I don’t want to drag anyone else into this, into this _travesty_. Steve, you, Clint, Sam, Wanda? It’s my business and no one else’s, I didn’t ask for anyone to get involved.”

“And yet we did and we’d all do it again. For you.” You look into my eyes. “You saved my life in London, are you forgetting that? I told you to run but you didn’t. You came and you got me and you stayed with me until Steve arrived. You told me here that you were in love with me. Would you be capable of _any_ of that if you were as completely fucked up as you say you are?”

“You can’t save me, baby,” I whisper “No matter how you try to paint it, you can’t help me, not with the things I’ve done.” My voice trembles again and I take a step away from you “And I don’t want you to.”

You stare at me for a moment and then you take two steps towards me and you all but throw your arms around my neck. I stagger back a step under the onslaught and look up at the sky, feeling my eyes burn. Finally I slide my arm around your waist and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes as a tear or two leak out.

“But I can love you Bucky. You can’t stop me from doing that,” you murmur against my ear.


End file.
